


Honey, Honey

by StuckInAFantasy6



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Late Night Conversations, Nightmares, Pining, Repressed Memories, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25918165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StuckInAFantasy6/pseuds/StuckInAFantasy6
Summary: Sissy hits a woman with her car. Her world gets a little bit bigger.-And what if Vanya didn't remember her name from the beginning?-Some of Sissy's thoughts through different moments of Vanya staying on the farm.
Relationships: Sissy Cooper/Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 36
Kudos: 256





	Honey, Honey

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> This is my first time writing for these two - and the first time I am writing for any fandom in quite a while - so I hope that someone enjoys this! I apologize for any mistakes but I got tired of staring at this story in a word document!
> 
> I actually enjoyed writing this though, and it was my little attempt at some more character development for Sissy - plus, I just wanted to see her slowly fall in love with Vanya...
> 
> Also, if anyone has any requests for this pairing I am willing to give it a shot - I tend to write fluff and angst pieces or just a hot mess combo of both :)

Sissy reached up to adjust the rear-view mirror, positioning it so that she had a better view of her son. It had become a habit for her to always have him in her sights. Initially it was born out of anxiety; she had known from the very first moment she held that little boy in her arms that she would do anything to protect him. The love she had for that boy was unspoken, like so many special moments she shared with her child, and yet resounding, echoing throughout every part of her. She had never loved anyone more.

It was the kind of love her mama had promised her when she was little. She could still remember the delicate yet creased fingers of a mother combing through her daughter’s hair twisting pretty blue ribbons around the strands she collected while the elder woman spoke gentle fairy tales about a future planned out just for her, into her young daughter’s ear. It was the usual things – a handsome suitor, a fancy wedding with a flowing white gown and lots of children to love and hold and shape into the next generation of cookie-cutter families complete with their very own ribbons in their hair. 

Her father had been a perfect example of the kind of man her mother would have wanted her to marry, at least when she was young – he was hardened, a real man who did real labour, an honourable man who knew his way around a bottle but would also hold his two daughters on his shoulders so that they could gawk at those pretty wedding dresses in a shop window when he took them into town. Sure, his hugs were sometimes awkward and a little too stiff – _that’s just how men are_ , her mother had chuckled as if this was some big inside joke that Sissy was unaware of that men weren’t supposed to show affection so openly – but they were always warm and she had felt safe with his strong arms wrapped around her. 

It was only as she grew older and began noticing the way the goodbye kisses her parents had shared turning into quick pats on the shoulder as they side stepped past each other like passing trains, and the ghosts of the tracks reflected in their shining eyes, that Sissy finally realized the realities of marriage. And now, as a grown woman, she thought back to the way that Carl hadn’t called last night and had stumbled into their bed smelling of cheap alcohol in the early hours of the morning as she pretended to be asleep. She supposed that once upon a time she might have thought that Carl was the one her mother had spoken of all those years ago, but she had grown wise to those tales and she couldn’t help but wonder if this was just how every married woman felt.

But Harlan, her sweet baby boy, who now sat in the back of the car clutching his toy bird in his small fingers as he always did, she knew he was the one thing she got right. She knew deep down that maybe Carl disagreed, but Sissy wouldn’t trade her little boy for the world. So, yes, she liked to keep an eye on him. 

But she had turned her attention back to the road for long enough that she would have seen that flash of white stumble into the middle of the road…had it not been so sudden. However, she only had time to blare her horn and slam on the breaks to soften the impact when the car jolted, the momentum of the car throwing it forward as it collided with the figure, and shakily dropping back down as the body tumbled onto the tarmac in front of them.

_Fuck_. 

Sissy breathed in sharply. Her hands were shaking as she unbuckled her seatbelt. She barely noticed Harlan copying her movements as she threw open the car door, hoping other cars on the road would get the message and _dear god, please don’t let her have killed someone_.

Harlan kept close to his mother, not entirely sure what to make of the situation but wanting the familiar comfort of her presence. Her mind was racing but she vaguely registered that he was beside her as she nervously approached the body. _Please_. 

The first thing she noticed was just how small this person was. Granted a lot of people would probably look small sprawled out in the road in such a vulnerable position, but the car had flung this person like a doll – like the ones she used to bring home for her son but tried to keep hidden from her husband - and the likeness was emphasized by the size and the way the hips were pushed over to one side. As she got closer, she noted that it was a woman. 

“Son of a biscuit.”

She felt the urge to reach down and help her up, and had she been a real doll Sissy would have plucked her up by the sleeve of that posh blazer, but still didn’t want to scare her or hurt her further.

The shocking white suit complete with a tie and matching boots was not like anything Sissy had ever seen a woman wear out before. Especially not in the middle of town on a hot day. She couldn’t see a rise and fall of the chest underneath all the layers of clothing and Sissy held her breath as her eyes settled on the face. 

Relief washed over her at the flicker of the woman’s brows as she squinted in discomfort. Her head rolled slowly but her eyes were unfocussed as she stared up at nothing, even as Sissy and Harlan stepped closer to peer down at her. Sissy took in the dark makeup smudged around mystery woman’s eyes set against her pallid complexion, a strong jawline outlined her features and her head was framed by a puddle of dark brown hair. She had never seen anybody quite like this. She was beautiful but there was something about her that she couldn’t quite pinpoint.

The woman still hadn’t made any attempts to move from where she laid, and a new kind of panic clogged up Sissy’s throat. Was she even able to move? She swallowed. 

She crouched down, glancing back briefly to make sure Harlan was okay before gently placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder. 

“Hey? Can you hear me?” 

Glazed eyes looked past her head and a small huff of air fell past pale lips.

“That’s it, just breathe for me.” 

Sissy’s hand quivered as the woman began to tremble under her touch, the glassy gaze filling with confused panic as it finally recognized a figure looming over her. An adrenaline-fuelled struggle sent the woman scrambling away, but before she could really move her whole body shuddered and she fell limply to the side, she caught herself on her hands and threw up onto the pavement. Sissy wasn’t exactly squeamish but even she would admit that the sight wasn’t pretty. A sweat broke out across the woman’s pale skin and her body heaved with the effort.

Sissy didn’t want to startle her again, so her hands hovered in the air above her back. 

“You’re okay, you’re gonna be okay,” she comforted.

The suited woman was shaking as she tried to regulate her breathing and Sissy waited patiently. She seemed to be able to move just fine but they weren’t out of the woods just yet. Widened, tearful eyes turned on her. 

“Hey there,” Sissy smiled gently, “you sure came out of nowhere, didn’t you?”

The woman stared at her. 

“You got a name?”

Silence. 

Harlan stepped closer to his mother tugging on her shoulder for her attention.

“It’s alright, babe,” she soothed him, “she’s alright, look.” 

The woman’s eyes fell on Harlan like she was only just seeing him for the first time and her terrified expression softened slightly. She was clearly in shock.

“Hey, Miss?” Sissy asked, “you with us?” 

A small nod.

“You don’t got a name?” 

“I-“

The sudden croak from the woman coaxed a tiny smile from Sissy. 

The rumble of a car approaching caught their attention, and Sissy felt her heart wrench at the distress that crossed the smaller woman’s face. She turned to face the driver and motioned wildly that they should go around, sighing internally. 

Just when she was finally getting somewhere…

“I- I don’t know…” 

Sissy snapped her head back around.

“I’m sorry?” 

“I…I don’t know,” the shaky voice responded.

“Sugar,” Sissy cursed. 

She really was not counting on this today.

* * *

Sissy pushed open the door. It was a modest guest room that they had not had much use for in the past; all her family lived out of the state, so visits were very scarce, Carl preferred it that way anyway. There was a bed in the center of the room pushed up against the window, a bedside table with a lamp resting on it, a wardrobe with some old clothes Sissy had dug out and a small armchair in the corner. 

“This is where you’ll be staying,” Sissy said brightly, sparing a look at her guest’s face to gauge her reaction, “it aint much but I reckon we could make it nice and cosy for you.”

“It’s great,” the woman beside her murmured gratefully, “thank you. You didn’t have to…I mean…look, are you sure I can stay here? I don’t want to be a burden-“ 

“Hey! We’ll be having none of that, Missy, it’s the least we can do. Y’know after hitting you with my car and all.”

She was awarded a light laugh. 

“If you’re sure…”

Sissy moved into the room, pulling at the bedsheets to straighten them before perching on the edge of the bed. She patted the space next to her encouragingly and the brunette took the direction with a small smile settling next to her new friend. 

“Positive! We could use the help around the farm and with Harlan,” Sissy smiled at her, “he seems to like you.”

A humble blush spread across pale skin. 

“You think so?”

“You’ll see,” she smiled, “oh, and you’ll meet my husband Carl later, he’s, uh, he’s working late tonight.” 

“Right, of course.”

“Look…honey,” 

Sissy cringed. Not at the term of endearment, that wasn’t her predicament, but at the way she would pause searching for a moment for a name she knew the woman hadn’t given her, one that couldn’t give her. Something deep inside her hated the way the other woman’s eyes would fall for a moment before playing off her discomfort and she didn’t want to be the cause of it.

“I’m sure someone will find you soon. But until then, you’re welcome here, okay? Besides, you’ve got to rest up, doctor’s orders.” 

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You get some sleep now. It'll do your head some good.” 

She turned on her heel and as she closed the door she wondered just what she had got herself into. 

* * *

Sissy glanced in the direction of the closed guest room door. Their guest been staying with them for about a week now. Harlan had adjusted fairly well to her presence there but Carl had been indifferent to her so far. Sissy wasn't sure how to feel about it all, considering the poor thing had been struck down by awful headaches which had kept her mostly in her room during the daytime. 

Carl had made a handful of bad jokes at the dinner table about her pulling her weight on the farm which Sissy had shot down with a glare, but apart from that the two didn’t talk particularly often. And when they did, it was Carl doing the talking. 

The brown-haired woman would occasionally cut in to slightly feed his ego to keep him happy, or to make a quip to make Sissy laugh – at least she thought that’s what she was doing (not that she ever noticed the way the other woman would look her way to check if she had earned a laugh). But it was a new morning and she was determined to get her some fresh air and new clothes at least.

She rose from the table, abandoning the cup of tea she had been sipping, and strode across the house to knock on the door. She knocked three times and the door swung open to reveal a familiar face with her hair tied back, her body practically drowning a pair of Sissy’s old dungarees with the patches around the knees and a soft blue top. Her heart ached at the sight. It was just too _cute_. 

“You’re up,” Sissy stated, looking her up and down with a smile.

“Yeah, headaches aren’t as bad today, thought I might as well take advantage,” she offered a small smile. 

“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” Sissy replied, “I was thinking you and me could take a drive into town. I think it’s high time we got you some new clothes.”

“Oh. That sounds…nice, but- “ 

“Hey, it’s my treat,” Sissy reassured her.

“You really don’t have to do that!” 

“Nonsense! We can’t have you walking around with your trouser legs underfoot for much longer, it’s practically a hazard! Besides, I’m sure you’ll pay us back in due time once we get you to work.”

\--

As they entered the shop a small bell chimed. One side of the store lined with racks of men’s coats in a jumble of dark colours, rows of muted slacks and dark denims and crisp shirts. The other was a more colourful display of women’s clothing, patterned dresses and corduroy trousers and pastel cardigans. The lights were bright overhead, and Sissy glanced at the shorter woman – she couldn’t help but worry that this would be too much to handle so soon but she took the hesitant smile she got as reassurance. 

Only then did it dawn upon Sissy that she didn’t really know what her guest would like to wear. The only clothes she had really seen her in were the white suit she had stumbled into the middle of the road wearing and the mismatched assortment of Sissy’s old clothes from the back of her closet which were all a little too big on her; she didn’t quite understand the warmth that spread through her body at the sight of this woman in her clothes but she hoped that if she got her some of her own maybe she could curb it.

They strolled further into the store, Sissy taking the lead and her companion sticking close to her side. Sissy walked over to a circular rack boasting blouses in a myriad of colours and ran her fingers over the fabric. She got to work, plucking up different shirts from the rack and holding them up for the other woman to see, trying not to think too much about the little noise of surprise that had escaped the brunette’s mouth when Sissy pushed a shirt still on its hanger against her chest to measure its size on her. Not for the first time, she couldn’t help but think about she was small and yet she still managed to fill a space with her energy. Sissy just couldn’t figure her out.

“I don’t know what I used to wear,” the woman told her. 

Her tone was one of slight sadness but mostly curiosity; Sissy took in her face, the big keen eyes, the light creases across her forehead, the slant of her lips, every inch of this woman screamed that she had lived, that she had smiled and cried and existed.

“Okay...so never mind that,” Sissy said, “what about...who do you want to be right here, right now?” 

The young woman seemed surprised by this question. Sissy couldn’t help but wonder why, had nobody asked her a question like that before? Had she ever been given that kind of choice? Surely so. Not that she would remember, but still, Sissy felt slightly taken back by her lost expression. It was clear she didn’t know quite where to start. God, puppy dog eyes were an understatement.

“Right,” Sissy acknowledged, “you need something you’ll be comfortable in. Something that says something about you. Like...for example, most of the time around the farm I like to be in something practical, something easy. So, sometimes when I go out to town, I like to throw on a nice skirt, something for me.” 

Sissy swished her skirt demonstratively, and the other woman laughed as her eyes swept down her body appreciatively.

"I might not remember who I am but I don’t think I was ever the kind of girl to just…throw on a skirt. But nothing too tight either. I need to be able to breathe; I hate that feeling of being trapped.” 

She shivered and shook her head to punctate her point.

Sissy smiled at her, “that, I can work with.” 

Brown eyes followed her as she zipped around the store gathering up a range of different garments, occasionally glancing back at her subject to make judgements.

That plum sweatshirt to compliment her skin. 

That white button-up to flatter her jawline.

Flannels for maximum comfort (these she ventured into the men’s smallest sections for). 

A grey jumper for warmth.

A handful of jeans for good measure. 

She shoved her selection into her companion’s arms and told her to go and try them on.

“Seriously? Right now?” the brunette raised her eyebrows. 

“Yes! Go, go!”

The brunette smiled at her as if to say ‘fine, I’ll play along’ and sighed as she made her way to the changing rooms. 

Sissy waited outside for a few minutes, patiently fiddling with the scarf display and listening absently to the rustling from inside the room.

“You okay in there, honey?” 

“Uh, yes.”

“You ready to come on out?” 

The thick red curtain was slowly pushed aside as her friend stepped out. She had buttoned one of the flannels all the way up and it hung loosely from her body, just across the mid-thigh of the jeans she had changed into. Sissy beamed.

While she had appreciated the certain charm of the brunette sporting her old clothes, she had to admit that there was something about her that made a flannel look more desirable than Sissy would have ever anticipated. 

“Wow,” she praised, “you look good.”

“Are you sure you like it?” 

A nervous glance was cast around the shop, at all the mannequins in their frilly dresses and hats, and the women with their heels and skirts, but her eyes automatically landed back on the blonde woman in front of her.

“Certain.” 

And that seemed to be enough for her. Sissy was proud of herself for making her new friend smile so freely.

"Do a twirl for me?” Sissy half-joked.

“Oh, come on!”

“Just once?” 

A laugh disguised as a reluctant groan fell from the brunette’s lips as she held up her hands in surrender and turned three hundred and sixty degrees. The blonde laughed and gave her a thumbs up. She couldn't explain the she rush of joy she felt at teasing the other woman but she supposed it was nice to have another girl around.

She was happy. 

Happy enough that later after they arrived home with bags of shopping, when Carl made snide remarks about her forgetting to buy their guest something a little more ladylike, she would just wait for him to turn back to his newspaper before winking at her friend.

* * *

The soft sound of music easily carried through the thin walls of the house, a low murmur accompanied by a snappy beat that could so easily be caught in a person’s breath and hummed for days on end if they were not careful. Sissy was used to Harlan playing records at all hours of the day and quite frankly she enjoyed it too. Each day she would take a moment to really listen to the record that he had chosen that day and try to imagine how heard it, how it made him feel and she was content to bask in those moments of closeness with her boy. She had grown accustomed to it just being her and Harlan in those moments, Carl was a busy man after all. 

So, it had been a surprise that their new guest had fit in so well. It didn’t happen overnight but Sissy wasn’t lying when she had claimed that Harlan seemed to like her (at the very least, he seemed not to mind her company, especially as she had become more confident around the family), it just meant that he had to get used to this new person in their lives. His new nanny.

It had been two weeks now and as her headaches had dwindled more and more, the young woman staying with them had started showing her face more around the farm. 

Sometimes she would make them all breakfast in the morning. Scrambled eggs for Carl, poached eggs for Sissy, and jam on toast for Harlan; she knew to cut the bread diagonally the way he liked it, and when Sissy confided in her that it had become a habit for her and she too now preferred her toast the same way, she had woken up since to find little triangles on her plate.

She could be found playing hide-and-seek with Harlan in the barn. Sissy would watch the pair, spending a little more time in the yard than necessary to feed the chickens, smiling as the woman pretended to look in obvious places to extend her game with her son. She secretly knew that Harlan was quietly proud of how easy it was to evade his seeker, like any eight-year-old boy would be, and it made Sissy glow from the inside every time the pair would walk in from a particularly long game for their lunch with cheeks flushed from the sun and smiles. 

She would help Sissy hang out the washing on long hot afternoons as Harlan played with his toys on the grass. And one time in the evening, after a particularly stressful day, before Sissy took them down, she shone a torch on the bedsheets and made shadow animals with her hands until she was satisfied that mother and son would go to sleep with a smile on their faces. Sissy had giggled and wondered where on earth she had learned to do that.

She wondered a lot of things about that woman lately. 

For now, Sissy simply stood in the doorway of the living room and observed. Her boy and his nanny sat across from each other, the record player between them, and a discarded game of Operation scattered across the floor. It was amazing, she thought, the adoration in those brown eyes directed at a boy she had only known for two weeks. Who could blame her for trying to soak some of that feeling up when those eyes turned to her?

* * *

Sissy cradled her face in her hands as she stared out at the night sky. The moon was full tonight, boasting its solid roundness and soft silver light which spilled over the fields, catching in the dew over the grass. A half-drained bottle of whisky sat beside her. It had been a long day. Carl was gone again, and Harlan had had a stressful day which resulted in him taking the best part of an hour to calm down. Now that he was tucked up in bed, she had come outside to just think. 

“You’ll catch a cold out here,” a soft voice came from behind her.

Sissy always wondered how you could hear a smile in someone’s voice without looking at them. Was it the upturn of the lips or maybe the happiness in the tone? Perhaps just pure human intuition? Whatever it was, it laced the voice in spades. 

“Hey, honey,” she replied easily.

“You’re still up?” 

Sissy looked up to take note of the soft blue pajamas, they were one of the only things that her friend had kept that had previously belonged to her. She had said that they were comfortable, and that it didn’t matter to her that they were a little too big for her, so Sissy had just smiled and popped them in the washing pile for her.

“Yeah, I just wanted some air.” 

“Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all. Come, sit,” Sissy nodded her head towards the ground next to her. 

They left the front door wide open as they leant against the house and looked up at the stars. They were silent for a few moments, just feeling the crisp wind against their faces and listening to the crickets.

“Do you ever think about how big the world is?” Sissy broke the silence. 

The woman beside her looked at her for a moment before reaching over to grab the half empty whisky bottle and raised it in the air with a playful smirk.

“You sure you haven’t had a bit too much of this?” she teased. 

“Hush, you,” Sissy laughed.

She gently pushed the bottle towards the other woman’s lips, encouraging her to take a sip, and the smaller woman allowed herself to be led so that the bottle top was pressed against her lips. 

“I’m serious,” Sissy said, watching the brunette swallow the drink, “you ever get that? I mean, somewhere in the world right now someone’s being born, someone else is dying, someone’s falling in love, having their first kiss…”

Her eyes drifted to her nameless friend’s lips and she wondered when she had her first kiss. They looked…soft. Plump and inviting with a sweet little cupid’s bow that most women would die to swipe their lipstick across, but Sissy couldn’t help but think they looked better this way, natural and pink and _soft_. Nothing to smudge in a kiss; a completely blank canvas. She wondered if they felt as smooth as they looked. And if anyone knew the answer. The brunette was attractive, she would be surprised if nobody had taken the first opportunity to kiss her. Any man would be a fool not to, at least, in Sissy’s opinion. 

Or maybe that was just the alcohol talking. 

It was probably the alcohol...

She watched her own name form on those lips.

“What? Yes?” she answered a little too quickly. 

“You alright? You kind of spaced out there…”

“Fine! I’m fine,” she smiled tightly. 

“Okay…”

Sissy eased the bottle from her friend’s hands, not sure she could take watching her take another sip and desperately needing a drink. She tipped back her head to take a big swig and swallowed so quickly she almost choked. 

“I do, you know,” her confidant said, “think about it.”

Sissy turned her head towards her to show she was listening while her friend continued. 

“I think about it all the time. There are so many people out there. But I’m not sure whether there’s anyone out there for me. It’s weird, it’s like there’s something in the back of my mind telling me that someone _must_ be looking for me. I must have come from somewhere. But there’s just…nothing.”

The blonde nodded her head sympathetically. 

“Well, I can’t imagine a girl like you not having anyone out there.”

“A girl like me?” 

"Mmm," Sissy hummed, cursing her blush.

She was thankful that the woman in question didn't press further.

“I’m just starting to think that if someone loved me, they would be here by now,” she said. 

“Maybe they just don’t know how to find you.”

“Maybe.” 

\--

Neither woman had gone to bed until the small hours, but Sissy was only just drifting off to sleep when her bedroom door flung open. 

She sat up in bed, clutching the sheets to her chest. It took her a moment to recognize that the panting breaths weren’t her own as her heart pounded inside her chest. She reached out for the shaking woman in front of her. 

Fat tears poured down her reddened face and her shoulders were trembling; her fingers were curled into fists and Sissy hated the way her friend looked so defensive. She had never seen her like this, not even when she had hit her with a car. She did not look like the gentle, smiling woman she had grown to know.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Sissy was across the room in a moment, her hands wiping at the other woman’s face, brushing her tears away. 

“I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” she sobbed.

"You have nothing to be sorry for!" Sissy assured her, "what's happened?" 

"I-I had a dream. I think I remembered something." 

“Oh, honey,” Sissy comforted, wrapping her arms around her and feeling the tear-stained face tuck into her neck. 

After a few more heavy shudders that clawed at Sissy’s heart she heard a small voice from in her arms.

“Y-you don’t have to call me t-that anymore.” 

“What do you mean? You don't like it?"

“No, it’s not that,” came the quiet answer, “I-I think I know my name.” 

Sissy’s eyes lit up and she dragged her over to sit on the bed, keeping her in her arms. She was confused, she had thought that when her memories of things, especially things as important as her own name, started coming back she would be happy. But here she was, sobbing her heart out.

“What? How?” 

“There was this voice. It was so _sad_ , Sissy. So _fucking_ sad. I-I can’t stop hearing it, it just keeps ringing in my ears. I can’t- I can’t…”

“Shhh, shhh, it’s okay. What did it say, darling?” 

“She said… _Vanya, I love you_.”

She? Sissy pushed aside her curiosity and decided that she would have to unpack that later. For now, she had bigger things to focus on. 

"I'm sorry," _Vanya_ whispered, "that you have to see me like this. I just didn't know what to do." 

"It's okay," Sissy soothed. 

Vanya. Sissy mouthed the word as she pressed a soothing kiss to her friend’s forehead. It suited her. Her name wasn’t one Sissy had ever heard before, and certainly not one she would have guessed, but she liked it. The two syllables felt nice on her tongue, both surprisingly natural and special at the same time, unique to her. Sissy said it over and over in her head.

“Hi, Vanya,” she whispered, “you sure came out of nowhere, didn’t you?” 

\--

That was the first night Vanya had spent in Sissy’s bed. 

When she had exhausted herself, Sissy pulled her down to lay on the pillows next to her and rocked her gently to sleep. She tried not to think too much about how pleasant the soft weight of Vanya felt or the way her hair smelled like Sissy’s shampoo and thought instead about what tomorrow would bring. Harlan would most likely be happy that his new nanny finally had a name. Carl would be indifferent, pleased only that they now had a name to put in those missing persons ads in the newspaper. And Sissy? Sissy would try to use that name as often as possible without excuse.

What she didn’t realize at the time is that it wouldn’t be the last night they spent in each other's arms. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> As a wlw who previously convinced myself that my now gf of 3 years was 'just a friend', I hope I captured that feeling!
> 
> I appreciate any feedback and I am down for requests!


End file.
